


Awake And Alive

by Zephyr_Fauchelevent



Category: Fate/stay night & Related Fandoms, Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling, Highschool DxD (Anime)
Genre: F/M, Multi, Triple Crossover
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-14
Updated: 2021-01-14
Packaged: 2021-03-12 09:47:51
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,902
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28758327
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Zephyr_Fauchelevent/pseuds/Zephyr_Fauchelevent
Summary: There was more to Harry Potter than met the eye. There was a very good reason as to why he survived so many things that would have killed anybody else. He always silently wondered why. And his answers came while waking up after being hit by a second Killing Curse.
Relationships: Harry Potter/Scáthach
Comments: 6
Kudos: 26





	Awake And Alive

**Author's Note:**

> The one and only disclaimer: This story is a work of fiction and the answer to my very own challenge of the same title. I make no money with this. Harry Potter belongs to J.K Rowling. High School DxD belongs to Ichiei Ishibumi and the contributions from the Fate Franchise belong to the TYPE-MOON company. I am only playing in their sandboxes. This story might or might not have explicit sexual content down the line. I haven’t come to a decision yet. Reader’s discretion is still advised, just in case. Also I will not write the various accents, the readers will just have to use their imagination for it. Also, this story will be beta’ed by my good friend DalkonCledwin. Thank you once again for accepting to help me with this endeavour.

Battles were always chaotic. It was a fact of life. There was always too much going on in a battle for anyone to absorb it all in one go. Now witches and wizards were generally used to the unusual. Magic, for all their efforts to quantify and understand it, would always present its practitioners with some sort of surprise. So it would be understandable that magical battles were bound to be just a bit more chaotic than those without magic. But for even the most blasé of wizards, seeing a young man getting up again after having been hit point blank by a Killing Curse would be mind boggling. Magic could do many wondrous things, but bringing the dead back to life wasn’t supposed to be possible. And yet, Harry James Potter had once again defied all expectations of normality. Not only did he get up again, but he had somehow gotten his hands on a sword in that interval. He was now using it more or less effectively against Death Eaters, Snatchers and other dark minions gathered from just about every type of Dark Creature imaginable.

What his audience didn’t know was that Harry had some rather interesting conversations while he was in limbo. He was of two minds about Dumbledore’s decision to manipulate his life. But he would have to think more about it later. Time was not his ally at the moment. It was the second conversation he had that was much more important. During it, he had learned that there was way more to the supernatural world than Witches and Wizards and the various magical creatures under their dubious care. There were other Human magic users, Angels, Fallen Angels, Devils, greater Dragons, Yokais and so many other beings out there in the wider world. 

But most importantly, the Pagan Gods written about in history books were very real and many of them were still alive and very active. It turned out that Harry was the current incarnation of the Irish Deity known as Manannan Mac Lir and soon enough, they would be united as one. Of course, Harry didn’t have full access to all the strength and powers of the god in question just yet. The condition of his body wouldn’t let him use that much power without breaking down in the first place. But a few had been unlocked and were now freely available to him since the Horcrux he had unknowingly housed was now purged from his being. 

Already, there were some changes to his previous worldview. Before he would have fought to incapacitate (Broken bones in strategic and specific positions used to count as «incapacitating» in his book) but now, he was fighting to kill. The Death Eaters had brought war and death to Hogwarts’ doorstep, it was only right to answer them in kind. A rabid dog had to be put down for the safety of the public after all. Manannan’s memories were helping him to wield the sword he had conjured once he had gotten back his borrowed wand, but it was clear to him that he was horribly out of shape. The Horcrux Hunt and their low rations had taken a toll on his body and while he was rather active beforehand with Quidditch and his yearly death defying stunts, he had zero physical combat training. Witches and Wizards of this age had gotten lazy. Wanting this fucking battle to be over as quickly as possible, Harry magically amplified his voice and shouted so everyone could hear him

«Don’t let them push you back! Keep Fighting! If you can’t kill them, a few strategically broken bones will put them out of the fight! No Stunners! No Full Body-Binds! They came here to kill us! Fight for your lives! For our future!»

Harry's rallying cry did it’s job. While the defenders were now pushing back the invaders with much more ferocity and righteous anger than before, the newly awakened deity decided to even the odds for the defenders’ side. Seemingly as fast as lightning, he freed Hagrid from his bonds and used a fallen log as material to transfigure a large and intimidating war hammer for his friend. Harry and Hagrid stared at each other for what seemed to be an eternity but in fact was only a few seconds, then the usually gentle half-giant grimly nodded his head and leapt into the fray, howling a blood freezing war cry and brandishing his new weapon over his head. 

Hogwarts was his home and he would put his life on the line to protect it and the children under his care! He would not let Tom and his cronies bully him into submission! No more! Grawp, recognizing his older brother’s voice and the intentions behind it, roared his own war cry and attacked the remaining enemy giants with even more ferocity than before. What the smaller giant lacked in strength, he more than made up for in sheer ingenuity. His brother had taught him many things these last few years. Little by little, the defenders were pushing the tide of darkness back. And when Voldemort himself came back into the fray, Harry went to meet him head on after bifurcating an Acromantula that came a bit too close for his confort. The sword he had in hand wasn’t Fragarach, but it would have to do for now since he was in a pinch. He would have to think on how to call it to him at a later time.

Soon enough, Harry and Voldemort were trading spells and sword blows at a rather frightening speed. It was like everything around them had stopped existing. Only their sworn enemy was worthy of their attention at the current time. For a time it seemed they were fighting on an equal level. But for all that Riddle knew the basics of sword fighting, it clearly wasn’t one of his strong points. Harry could have likely finished things up much quicker had he been in a better physical shape. And by the mix of hatred and fear he could see in the eyes of the monster who took his family from him, the Dark Lord was seeing the same thing and couldn’t help but believe it. Then Voldemort made a mistake that left him wide open, by trying to fall back to the Unforgivable curses. There were much more efficient ways to kill or to wound someone than high powered spells that took critical time to cast. It would be Riddle’s very last mistake.

«Avada… ACK!»

Harry had lost no time in cutting off the hand Voldemort held his wand in before pulling it to him with a quick and silent summoning charm. The last of the Potters caught it easily with his Seeker reflexes. Not caring much right now about what the wand actually was, Harry was quick to use it alongside his borrowed one to blast his nemesis back against a tree. There was no time to lose. He couldn't afford to make Voldemort suffer like how Mac Lir would have wanted. If he didn’t end it here and now, he would likely regret it for the rest of his life. Seeing as his conjured sword had expired, Harry was about to conjure or transfigure another one when a memory coming from his previous life came to the forefront of his mind. In perfect Gaeilge, which was rather strange mind you since Harry had never spoken that language before today, he said out loud 

«Tar chugam, a Fragarach!*»

From out of nowhere appeared another sword in Harry’s hands. But this one was on a whole other calibre than the one he had previously conjured. It was a hand-and-a-half sword with the blade a gleaming silver colour. The hilt was rather worn down, what with the faded colour and the various scratches. There was even one prong pointing upwards and another one pointing downwards. All in all the sword didn’t look like anything special, but there was an unmistakable quality about the sword which made everyone nearby feel rather uneasy simply by being in the presence of this weapon. Harry would have wanted to say something, anything, but he simply couldn’t take the chance. So before anything else could happen, he took a swing with Mac Lir’s sword, and in one shot, decapitated Voldemort. There had been absolutely no resistance, the sword cut through the Dark Lord’s neck like a hot knife through butter!

There was a very furious and anguished scream that made Harry look away from his deed toward the voice’s owner. Ah, it seemed that Bellatrix wasn’t happy about the death of her master. No matter. She would join him soon enough in death. Both Harry and Mac Lir were not all that inclined to spare the lives of many of the Death Eaters. Lucius and Draco would live. He owed that much to Narcissa. Whether her son and husband escaped a sentence in Azkaban when everything was over would not be his problem. Justice wasn’t Mac Lir’s department. But already there were so many deaths on both sides, it was such a waste of life. But this was war. Seeing that «dear» Bella was still too far away from him to be a threat just yet, Harry decided that it was time to cut the grass under the Death Eaters' feet. With a swift movement, he bent down to take hold of Voldemort’s severed head and marched towards what was left of the enemy front.

One by one, the remaining Death Eaters, the Snatchers and anyone left alive still fighting for the Dark Lord came to halt. One by one, they fell on their knees, faces agape at the sheer impossibility that had shattered their worldview, letting their wands clatter uselessly on the ground. Except two that is. Bellatrix Lestrange was now rushing to him with murder in her eyes, screaming and brandishing wand and knife both like the insane woman she was. Fenrir Greyback was also on his way, only to be cut in half by a double cutting curse, courtesy of Neville and Ron. Seeing the madwoman approaching, he said if only to himself after letting the severed head of Tom Riddle fall to the ground

«Well time to make an example...»

Suddenly, there was an intense _pressure_ emanating from the young man while his emerald green eyes started to glow like they were illuminated from the inside by headlights. It was felt by all but none more so than Bellatrix. The kin slayer of the Black family was quickly overwhelmed by the sheer _power_ of her dear master’s murderer. She collapsed on her hands and knees, panting erratically. As Harry approached Bella at an easy pace, she made multiple valiant attempts to get up, but she ultimately failed each time. There were now numerous, enormous beads of sweat running down her body and it took all her willpower to not disgrace herself further by soiling herself. How was it possible for a filthy half-blood like Potter to have more power than her beloved Lord and that old codger Dumbledore combined? It was simply impossible! Then his voice, loud and clear enough to be heard by everyone nearby, brought her out of her mental fugue once he was surplombing her.

« **In the name of Manannan of the House of Lir, First of his Name, King of Tír na nÓg, Lord of Capes** **,** **and Protector of the British Islands, I, Harry of the House of Potter, Lord of the House of Black and Potter, and Warden of Hogwarts, sentence you to die.** »

Then Harry swung Fragarach with both hands this time and Bellatrix Lestrange lost her head, just like her precious master. Harry managed to formally execute five more Death Eaters before he was stopped by Professor Flitwick. Not wanting to cause more strife among the defenders, Harry accepted to leave the rest to a Judiciary panel. From there, it was a new sort of chaos. The defenders had to tend to not only their wounded and their dead but also those of the other side. Somebody had to also take charge of the prisoners. There was still so much to do to put their community back to right. The Ministry had to be reclaimed and restaffed, it was simply too much for Britain to do this alone. Missives were sent to the ICW Headquarters and to neighborhood countries, asking for help. Harry’s new powers had helped prevent a few tragedies, but he couldn't save them all. Fred Weasley would survive but would need extensive physiotherapy once healed if he ever wanted to walk again. Nymphadora Tonks would not leave her son an orphan, but the price to be paid for this miracle had been steep. She had lost her husband in the Battle of Hogwarts and due to her wounds, she would no longer be able to bear children. Little Teddy would be an only child. 

It was much too late for too many people though. Colin Creevey, Lavender Brown, Remus Lupin, so many bright lights extinguished so soon. While everyone was doing everything they could to put things to right, Harry was taking the necessary time to heal. He declined Mrs. Weasley’s offer to live at the Burrow though. He needed his independence to sort through the memories of Manannan Mac Lir and to train the powers he had access to at the moment. The true supernatural world was a dog eat dog kind of place after all. If he showed an ounce of weakness, he would be eaten alive, figuratively speaking, by the gods of other pantheons or by the remnants of the Fomorians. There was a silver lining though. The way he had executed Bellatrix and her five fellow Death Eaters on the battlefield had been an old but still legal way to do the deed. Back when the Death penalty was still enforced physically by lawfully apointed executioners rather than using Dementors, said executioner(s) would seemingly recite similar phrases before taking action. So even when the laws of the previous administrations would be restored, he would not suffer any legal consequences.

But Harry was getting rather antsy. He had a plan as to who to ask for help in getting himself back to shape and mastering his new divine abilities. He could only hope that the price she would ask for when granting him such a kindness wouldn’t be too steep. But there was always so much to do even in repairing the castle that after each day, he could only barely last through his evening meal before going to wash himself and then crashing in a bed somewhere. On one hand, he needed to leave so he could take back Mac Lir’s duties, but on the other, he still had responsibilities he could not eschew as Harry. Once he was truly a god once more, he would be able to divide his essence and be in multiple places at one time, but he couldn’t do that just yet, not without the adequate training. He was still amazed that his best friends believed him when he explained everything to them in private. They had absolutely no proof that he was Manannan Mac Lir reborn and he couldn’t really play with the abilities relating to the Man of the Sea’s duty as the Ferryman of the Dead.

It was also his friends who gave him the needed push to leave discreetly and find his own way.

«Go, mate. It’s our turn to right things up. You can’t always take the entire Wizarding World’s burdens on your back, Harry. You-Know-Who is dead for good this time, you’re no longer the only one who can help around here.»

Of course, Hermione had to add her own two cents as well.

«Go, be free. But don’t forget to write and visit from time to time. Deity or not, I will be very cross with you if you forget about us.»

Both Ron and Harry chuckled warmly at that. After a group hug, Harry went to fetch what little possessions he had, including the Elder Wand before eclipsing himself via numerous secret passages. He would leave the Wand on the Other Side since he had already used it to repair his own Holly and Phoenix Feather Wand. This way it would never tempt anyone ever again. Then he made his way towards where they disembarked from the boats prior to the Welcoming Feast for the school’s new class of first years. Once at the end of the docks, Harry crouched down and put his hand in the water before closing his eyes and concentrating for a few minutes. Gathering what little divine energy he could access, he then sent a pulse down the water before speaking in Gaeilge

«Sguaba Tuinne, le feiceáil!**»

Once Harry removed his hand from the water, a magic circle of golden light with a stylized fish for the sigil appeared on top of the water. And seemingly not caring about the limited space, the Coracle of Manannan Mac Lir slowly emerged from the circle. It was quite big, enough to seat at least twenty people comfortably and something told him that it could change to suit the user’s needs. The hull was painted a brilliant silvery white colour and there was Mac Lir’s emblem of the stylised fish in gold on each side. The coracle seemed to be also inlaid with mother-of-pearl all over. And to add the cherry on top, since it was a divine vehicle, it didn’t obey the laws of physics. The coracle was clearly too big for the small secluded wharf, but at the same time it was floating there like there was no problem.

Deciding to stop wondering how magic could give physics the middle finger without retaliation, Harry secured his belongings on board before letting Mac Lir’s memories guide him. Once he sat down on the bench near the middle, he only had to will it for his coracle to answer. Once a bubble of divine magic appeared to seal the open top of the embarcation, Harry willed it to dive. It didn’t matter that the water was not deep enough, Sguaba Tuinne was a divine construct, it defied the laws of physics in a similar manner to the chariots of the Greek gods. Soon enough Harry had Sguaba Tuinne dive deep into the Black Lake, knowing instinctively that he needed some space before attempting to teleport from one body of water to another for the first time in what felt like forever. 

Harry knew he couldn’t do that by himself just yet, but his coracle could. Harry jumped from many lochs and rivers on the way before safely arriving in Gruinard Bay, on the western side of Scotland. To be certain that he wasn’t seen, he used the mist of Féth Fíada to conceal himself from muggles. He might be a godling now, but he had no interest in breaking the Statute of Secrecy. He had no need for that kind of headache. He had for his destination the Isle of Skye. He could have entered the Land of Shadows from anywhere else really, but felt that it was better to be closer to where his hopefully future trainer had resided centuries ago. The powers of the Ferryman were literally at his fingertips. But he had also gained Mac Lir’s deep love for the sea, so taking the scenic way wasn’t bothering him at all.

Harry was about halfway there when something else suddenly nagged at his subconscious. He paused his coracle in the middle of the bay and opened his senses to the world, just like the memories of Mac Lir had shown him. A few moments later, he reduced the range of his senses to the previous level and nodded to himself. There were quite a few souls waiting for their ferry to the Other Side. He would do his duty as the Ferryman for the Dead for a while before going to petition the woman who could whip him back into shape. He was not afraid. No, he wasn’t. That was his affirmation, and he was sticking to it. Anyone who said the contrary were liars and heretics. 

**xXx**

Elsewhere around the world, many higher beings, such as the various deities and higher level dragons could sense that there was much more activity in the corner of the globe once ruled by the various Celtic tribes than usual in past centuries. In fact, the Tuatha Dé Danann had been even more quiet and shut-in than usual since the Wizards all over the globe decided to hide the existence of anything magical from regular mortals and enforce the idea as a worldwide law in the latter parts of the XVII century. So when Harry retrieved a bunch of wayward souls to ferry them to the Other Side, many of the deities aligned with the domain of Death felt it clearly. But after each trip, the feeling became less and less. It seemed that it was either a new deity who took the job of one who had faded and was getting used to his new powers or it was a god who had been sleeping, and had most likely just awakened, meaning that the deity was currently shaking off the rust of ages, as the expression went.

Nobody else decided to bother to go check things out, but one. Morrigan knew the truth, or at least part of it. She even had a third theory on what was currently going on. Perhaps it was a new demigod who had been rewarded with a trip in his father’s coracle? Because she could definitely feel that it truly was the original Sguaba Tuinne and not one of the replicas Manannan sometimes gifted to his demigod offspring over the centuries. Call her curious, but she would get to the bottom of this mystery. So when she felt who could be the Man of the Sea come back from the Otherworld, she decided to pay him a little visit. Contrary to some other gods, she hadn’t decided to take a «vacation» by sending her soul into the cycle of rebirth. When she felt his coracle pass nearby, she took the form of a raven then took off from the cliffs she had been resting on a moment ago. It took a bit of doing what with having the wind against her, but she managed to approach the divine construct. Morrigan was a bit surprised by the lack of resistance when she passed through the dome shaped barrier and landed on a bench in front of the captain of the ship, but it could be a point toward all three theories being discussed by various pantheons.

She would never admit it to anyone, but seeing the young man jump when she cawed out loud had rather tickled her funny bone. At first glance, he wasn’t at all similar to Manannan’s favourite looks. But physical looks on a god could be quite tricky. Shapeshifting was a common power among them after all. But there was also something else about him. There was power in the lad. True power at that. It might be a bit weak and more than likely full of rust at the moment, but it was growing at a nice rate. Morrigan was brought out of her musings when she felt the coracle immobilize itself in the middle of the bay. The young man looked at her without fear but kept his distance all the same. Then he spoke to her

«Now, who might you be? You are a beautiful bird though but I know you’re no ordinary raven. Are you an animagus perhaps? I didn’t think regular witches and wizards could see and pass through the Féth fíada mist though. Could you take back your human shape please? It would be easier for the conversation.»

When the bird indulged him and changed into a beautiful woman, Harry was quite surprised. She wasn’t dressed like Muggles or like any of the Pureblood witches he had seen. It was a beautiful strapless, black as a moonless night dress, which gave a deep view of the woman’s most impressive cleavage. Which he forced himself to not look at anymore lest he be the target of her fury. She had strange laced gloves on her hands and her skin was pale as the moon. There seemed to still be raven's feathers among the beautiful dark cascade of hair falling on her back. But what alerted him that this woman was no regular witch, was not the dagger or the five branches star medallion she had on her left biceps. It was the tattoos on her face and the spark of great power in her dark eyes. It was only Mac Lir’s memories that prevented him from making a mistake that could have cost him his life. After all, rare were those who insulted the Phantom Queen and lived to tell the tale. Ering on the side of safety, Harry swallowed noisily and said politely after a bit of hesitation

«Huh...It is nice to meet you Lady Morrigan. What can I do for you?»

At full power, Mannanan Mac Lir could have taken Morrigan in a fight and would have had great chances of winning. As both Mac Lir and Harry were right now though, she would crush them like an insect should he make the mistake to provoke her into a fight. Mortal magic was nothing more than an annoyance for a goddess such as her. Better be on his best behaviour and to not tempt Fate.

Morrigan’s lips quirked into a smile and her voice, smooth and smoky and seductive purred

«Well, well, well, it seems that someone taught you good manners, boy. But tell me, are you Manannan Mac Lir’s demigod son or his successor perhaps? You do know that you are currently using the Man of the Sea’s own divine chariot right? I hope for your sake that you were not foolish enough to steal it.»

Harry answered soon after, knowing that answering truthfully the questions asked by the mercurial goddess in front of him was the best thing he could do right now.

«I am the current reincarnation of Manannan Mac Lir. His soul and mine are in the process of fusing together. Some of his powers are now available to me. In this life, I was born as Harry Potter, my lady.»

A quirked eyebrow got her a more in depth explanation. He wanted to live and stay in one piece, thank you very much. He was just a godling right now, he wasn’t raring to fight a war goddess such as Morrigan. The Horcrux in his scar was gone, he did not currently possess a way to survive death for a third time.

Morrigan contemplated for a short while the information she received from this little mage. So that was why the Man of the Sea had been so silent since those pesky Wizards decided to hide magic and the supernatural from the regular mortals. He had been bored enough to go on an extended vacation. And now he was in the process of coming back. How quaint. She had satisfied her curiosity so her business here was done. But just before she left, she told him

«Do say hello to dear Scáthach for me, will you? And I want you to do your very best to get back to your ancient level of strength. If you don’t, I will be very displeased with you, boy. But if you do manage it… Well, I might give you a reward. Here’s a little taste.»

If only to mess with him a little, she forcefully grabbed his head and plonked his face in her cleavage. She wasn’t ashamed to be desirable and to flaunt her curves. Morrigan knew she was beautiful and her body was one of her main weapons. She enjoyed his reactions; the muffled noises of both fear and surprise he made before releasing him after a minute or two. She permitted herself a little amused chuckle at his flushed face, then gave him a peck on his cheek because he was rather cute, before she took her raven form once more and flew away, cawing loudly.

**xXx**

Harry watched her go until he could no longer see her before letting go the breath he hadn’t even known he was holding. This was his very first meeting with a goddess and damn, just her presence had shaken him something fierce and she had been in a good mood! Regardless, it was time to take the bull by the horns and go get that training. Mentally ordering Sguaba Tuinne to sail anew he opened himself up to the powers of the Ferryman and kept in mind his destination. The Land of Shadows. It was like the coracle was engulfed in a wave of primordial darkness for a few seconds before he exited in what was truly a haunted world. Even the river he was currently sailing on was full of death. It was not a place where ordinary mortals could survive. Once ashore, Harry dismissed his coracle and it quickly vanished in a shower of golden lights. 

Since Mac Lir had only ever heard of that place, even if he had been acquainted with Scáthach in the past and never had a need to come here before, his memories couldn’t help Harry with his current situation. Since it was better to be safe than be sorry, he called Fragarach to him. He was very surprised to see that the sword had changed. The ravages of time seemed to have been erased. The pommel was now whole, the hilt was also now a gleaming bronze and the guard was no longer broken. The blade also seemed to be glowing from an internal light. After a few minutes of walking, the newly minted godling saw a massive castle still far away. Harry couldn’t help but let out an impressed whistle. While it wasn’t looking as magical as Hogwarts, this castle was still really something to look at.

The road from his starting point near the dead river all the way to the castle was very long and he had to cut more hostile ghosts than he could ever count with the help of Fragarach or his magic. Even if he was using the latter sparingly, not wanting to risk magical exhaustion in such an inhospitable land. Even as untrained as he currently was, being a godling had already augmented Harry’s current physical capabilities. Having also recovered from his year on the run in the last few months with the help of nutritious and filling meals and the gracious help of Madam Pomfrey had also helped him greatly. All those factors made it so that he wouldn’t get tired as quickly as before. He was about to enter the inner courtyard when he felt the hair behind his neck stand up. There was something, more than likely _someone_ , very powerful nearby. But before Harry could do anything else, a feminine voice addressed him in a tongue he didn’t know but could somehow understand like it was the Queen’s English.

«Well, would you look at that. It has been a very long time since I had visitors. Even more so for unexpected ones. You will turn around, slowly, and look me in the eyes. No sudden movements if you wish to keep living.»

It was a command Harry knew better than to disobey. Slowly, without rushing he turned around to come face to face with the very woman he had come to petition for help. And of course being a teenage male, he couldn’t help himself from staring for a few seconds. Scáthach was an extremely beautiful woman. She had long purple hair and red eyes, and wore a full-body outfit that highlighted her curvaceous body, with metallic shoulder pads. In her right hand, she held a blood red spear that radiated an immense amount of power and blood lust. Then red eyes and green eyes met. She was shorter than him but he knew it meant nothing. She could kick his ass from one end of this land to the other without breaking a sweat and they both knew it. 

Just as much as he had devoured her, she was quick to analyze him. The sword he held was a divine weapon, she could feel the power emanating from it. She dismissed his strange accoutrement as irrelevant. The boy, for he was one, even if he was now old enough to shave, was a dichotomy of human and divine. A demigod perhaps? By his elaborated stick, she could hazard a guess that he was a magic user, even if his focus was a bit strange. But in looking into his eyes, she could see the untapped potential he had. Just like her favourite student, all those centuries ago. But there was something else… on his forehead, there was a fading scar in the form of a rune which she wasn’t certain of the meaning. But it was a mark of destiny. Done with her investigation, she asked of him

«What brings you to my domain? And exactly how have you managed to enter this land?»

Harry answered her quickly and honestly

«I will answer your second question first. I am the current reincarnation of Manannan Mac Lir and I have access to his powers as the Ferryman of the Dead. I used those in combination with his coracle to come here with the goal of meeting you. Both his soul and mine are slowly merging and I need help to regain the strength we had long ago. In time we will be one and the same.»

Scáthach observed her visitor and after thinking about it for a short while, she answered

«And what do I get out of this if I agree to train you? You can’t get something for nothing, that’s not how the world works, boy. you should be old enough to know that already.»

Harry shrugged his shoulders and answered her

«I’m open to negotiations. Oh, before I forget! Lady Morrigan says _hello_. »

Scáthach only hesitated for a short time. She didn’t have anything to lose really. After more than two thousand years, she was really bored. At least putting the boy through his paces would be entertaining. An unholy gleam illuminated her red eyes and a dangerous smile crossed her lips. Then she told him

«I reserve the right to ask for payment at a later time. Now, boy, pay attention, for this is your very first lesson. Dodge!»

She then swung Gáe Bolg Alternative at him in an half hearted attempt to skewer him. His yelp of surprised fear brought another smile to her lips. At least, it wouldn’t be as boring with someone else to tor- hum train. yes, training. But there was something new. This new kid hadn’t dodged by jumping right or left or even backward, he had spun slightly on his heels only to vanish in a sound of displaced air and reappeared far behind her with the same noise. Hum, short distance teleportation? That was new. And interesting. Very interesting. But it would not save him for long.

  
  


**Translations from Irish Gaelic to English:**

*Come to me, Fragarach!  
**Sguaba Tuinne, appear!


End file.
